


In medias res

by panickyintheuk



Series: Abandoned WIPs [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Unexplained time jumps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1469641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panickyintheuk/pseuds/panickyintheuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wakes up with Captain America in his bed.</p><p>“Good morning,” says Cap.</p><p>“What -- what are you doing here?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	In medias res

He wakes up with Captain America in his bed.

“Good morning,” says Cap.

“What -- what are you doing here?”

“I got back early. I thought I’d surprise you.” He frowns a little. “It was supposed to be a pleasant surprise.”

“Well, it’s not unpleasant,” says Tony, “but I have to -- just, excuse me a second, I have to do a thing.”

“Mmph,” says Cap, “whatever, I’m going back to sleep, I caught the red-eye.”

He shuffles his way downstairs. Is he being Punk’d? Is that still a thing? Coffee is a priority, and then he will go back upstairs and pry the Captain America mask off whatever Scooby Doo villain is underneath it, or find a way to reverse whatever mind control Cap is under, or kill whoever set this up. He hopes it’s the latter. Homicide definitely seems like the easiest solution here.

Bruce is in the kitchen.

“Hey sweet pea, guess what? Captain America was in my bed this morning.”

“Huh,” says Bruce, “I was wondering when you were gonna start bragging about that,” and he turns on his tail and leaves the kitchen. Tony blinks. Bruce is in on this? His Bruce? Not cool. He needs eggs. He opens the fridge and... wait, there’s OJ in here? He could have sworn he finished off the OJ last night drinking vodka with Natasha (hating the taste of neat vodka does not make him a pussy, shut up Natasha). Has someone been to the store since then? It’s only -- he checks his phone -- it’s only 9.30! Ugh, why is he awake? Screw eggs, he needs frozen yogurt. He opens the freezer and WHAT THE HELL? He had FroYo yesterday. Has someone broken into his house, replaced his FroYo with juice and put Captain America in his bed? If so, that is the most pointless practical joke maybe ever. Having said that, it has succeeded in annoying him an insane amount, so maybe not. He gives up on food, pours himself a coffee and wanders into the living room. Natasha is there.

“Hey, hey, Natasha, listen to this okay,” he says. “I wake up this morning and Rogers is there. Like, in my bed, next to me.”

She glances up from Guns & Ammo. “Right, Fury said he got back early.” Got back from where, and Natasha’s in on this, his Natasha? Okay, so Natasha is a lot less ‘his’ than Bruce is, and it’s not like Natasha hasn’t pulled this shit before, but he thought they were bros now! Well, Tony has a pet theory that Natasha secretly liked him from the start, anyway, but she’s not even actively hiding it these days. Really, the only person he doesn’t consider a bro is the person currently occupying the other half of his bed.

He pulls out his phone for the third time that day to check it isn’t actually April first, and that’s when he actually notices the actual date. What the FUCK?

*

He tracks down Bruce in their lab (no it is not Bruce’s lab, Tony paid for it, shut up Bruce). Some quick Googling (why doesn’t he own Google yet? Can he afford Google? He should ask Pepper) had confirmed that someone had not simply changed the date on his phone. There was pretty convincingly three months’ worth of news and gossip and pop culture that he’d missed. Somebody is probably capable of fabricating that (he certainly is), but it’s looking less and less likely. So, amnesia? This is his life, so aliens or Reed Richards or even magic are perfectly possible, but it’s best to be sure. Not that he’s going to mention this to anyone, because they’ll probably make him go to hospital, or put him under observation, or something awful like that. Well, that’s what his best buddy with the not-actually-but-close-enough-to-a medical degree is for.

“Hey best buddy,” he says, and grins charmingly at Bruce.

“I know that face,” says Bruce. “That face is setting off alarm bells.”

“No no,” says Tony, “I was just wondering if you could check me over. I’m feeling kind of weird today, and I never got that bump on the head from the other week checked out --” that’s a pretty safe bet; he’s a superhero, he gets bumped on the head for a living, and he never gets it checked out.

“If by ‘the other week’ you mean ‘three days ago’ then yes, I noticed,” says Bruce. “Funny how Steve gets called away and suddenly you decide you’re allergic to sick bay all over again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Tony, and he actually doesn’t, but Bruce just laughs.

“Sure. I suppose he bugged you into getting it looked at?”

“No, he doesn’t know about it, as far as I’m aware. Anyway, he’s asleep.”

Bruce’s face twists in concern. “So you’re actually feeling weird? Weird how?”

“Uh... disoriented. Kind of fuzzy.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to a real doctor? If you’re actually admitting to it, you must be feeling pretty crappy.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just I wanted to work on something today, and I want a clear head, so I thought --”

Bruce looks at him. “Everything okay with you and Steve? He just got back, you don’t think you should take a day off or something?”

Tony shrugs helplessly, because he has no idea what this Steve thing is but everybody seems to know about it and think it’s fucking normal. He adds another possibility to his list of theories: insane fucking opposite land where time happens to run at a marginally different pace.

“Okay,” says Bruce finally, “let’s get this over with.”

*

Bruce gives him the all-clear, as much as is possible when they can’t do an MRI (and that’s something he should look into, an MRI alternative for people with prostheses and stuff), so he retreats to his workshop and gets himself as greasy as possible, which is his favorite form of catharsis. Apparently he’s in the middle of restoring an old VW Camper, which, okay, whatever. He’s been down there maybe three hours when Cap -- “Steve”, apparently -- comes in without any warning and wraps his arms around him from behind.

“Hey, that’s coming along nicely,” he says, then mutters “you should have woken me up.”

“Well, you said you were tired,” says Tony, trying to hide how nervous he feels.

“Mm, but I missed you,” says Steve. “Come to bed?”

And Tony -- Tony’s only human, and apparently in some warped parallel universe he’s somehow scored Captain America, and he doesn’t want to screw that up for Other Tony (and when did being with Cap become something desirable, something he doesn’t want to screw up for himself? Nope, not going there, shut up brain). He goes to bed.

*

When Cap -- Steve -- hands him the condom, he’s confused for a second.

“You want me to put it on for you?” he says.

Steve frowns. “Uh... you want me to, to... top this time? I mean, I don’t mind, if that’s what you want.”

“Nope,” says Tony, “nope, that’s fine, just, um, kidding around.” Smooth, Stark.

Okay, so he’s scored Captain America, who likes to take it up the ass. Insane fucking opposite land it is.

*

A few days later he’s standing staring blearily into the breakfast cereal cupboard when Steve comes and puts his arms around him again. Is this a thing? Apparently this is a thing.

“Handsy much?” he says lightly, and Steve’s hands immediately snap away.

“Sorry,” says Steve guiltily, “it’s just I’ve never been in a relationship before, I guess I don’t know --”

Jesus Christ. He grabs Steve’s hands and puts them back where they were. “Not complaining,” he says firmly.

He’s still trying to get comfortable with this, and he hasn’t had all that much of a chance the last couple of days because, contrary to what most people seem to think, as head of R&D and figurehead of the company he does actually have to work, even more so since he has three months’ of business to catch up on so he doesn’t get caught out, plus he’s been trying to figure out this time paradox/interdimensional gateway/head injury situation without letting anyone know there’s a situation to figure out, and it’s not like Steve has nothing to do, so it kind of feels like they haven’t actually seen each other that much, aside from falling into bed next to each other and engaging in bouts of surprisingly tender sex.


End file.
